


the vine and the branch

by rippedoutgrace



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4108066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rippedoutgrace/pseuds/rippedoutgrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like a vine, she crept up until she wound herself so tightly around him, they didn’t know where the other began.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the vine and the branch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LolitaStyles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LolitaStyles/gifts).



> For Jane, since we were talking about the tragedy that is Finnick and Annie.

He knows of her – seen her around, they’ve even had near misses. She swam by him once, long and sleek, her hair spread wild in the water.

 

_Lovely_ , he thought and left it at that.

 

He sees her again when her name is called. The rest of the girls breathe a collective sigh, relief rippling through the crowd but it washes past her.

 

Annie Cresta.

 

Her eyes are bright, unshed tears catching the light, and a fine tremor runs through her hands. She’s calm otherwise, steady, focused. Finnick knows he wasn’t nearly so composed when his own name was called five years ago, though God knows he tried to hide it. When he catches Mags’ eye, they share a nod, an understanding.

 

It’s their job to get this girl home again.

 

Annie Cresta _(lovely)_.

 

*

 

Everything they taught her vanishes in a second. The horror in the crowd is palpable and Finnick tries not to crush Mags’ hand in his, his heart stopping for a flash and then beating so hard he swears Mags’ could even hear it. Annie’s covered in blood, not her own, but the head comes dangerously close to her feet before she starts running.

 

And running and running and running. Until she’s not anymore.

 

Her body tucks small and she disappears from sight. Finnick watches and waits but she doesn’t come out. His eyes feel like grit and sand and he can’t blink, he might miss her. He might lose her. Mags left – no, she’s there, sitting against the wall where it’s shaded and cool. He only glances at her for a moment before his eyes are sweeping the screen again.

 

Did she come out? Is she alive?

 

When the cannons boom that night, there’s no canon for Annie and Finnick breathes.

 

Luck doesn’t last. There’s an earthquake, a flood. Water, so much water. The gurgled screams of the other Tributes are deafening. But there’s Annie. Swimming strong and fast and smooth, the water barely displacing around her, his clever girl. His joy is only dampened by the sound of her laughing.

 

*

 

When the district welcomes her home, she slaps her hands over her ears and her long, flowing hair obscures her panicked face. When they honor the fallen, Annie laughs and laughs and laughs.

 

She’s quiet with Finnick though. He whispers to her, thinking her ears are sensitive now, wanting to be gentle, kind.

 

She laughs but it’s different. Or rather, more like what it used to be. “Why are you whispering?” Her smile is so bright, it hurts his heart.

 

“I don’t know,” he tells her. “I don’t know.”

 

Behind closed doors, he clutches her tight, bodies wrapped close. He doesn’t want to share her. He wants to say, _don’t let them take either one of us_. He wants to say, _let’s run away from this_.

 

Instead he says, “I love you.”

 

He thinks it means the same.

 

When did this happen? He can pinpoint it. He can’t say, _here! This is it! The moment I fell in love with this girl_.

 

He tells Katniss later, “She crept up on me.” It’s the best way he knows how to explain it. She’s like a vine around his heart. She grew slowly and steadily, creeping ever closer, winding tighter and tighter around his heart, his mind, until all he can think is _Annie. Annie Cresta. Lovely._

 

His hands are calloused, rough. The rope is turning soft in his hands. He thinks of Annie with every knot.

 

_Here is the knot that you tied around my heart. Here is the twist of your smile. Here, the frayed ends of your hair. This is the turn, the pull, the spiral of your mind. Here, my hands undo it._

 

Annie Cresta. His lovely girl.

 

*

 

When she jumps into his arms, she feels frailer than before and her hair doesn’t smell of home. But she’s the same, her sweet breath caressing his face and he can’t put her down. He may lose her again if he does.

 

“Annie, Annie,” he murmurs over and over again.

 

“Finnick,” she sighs into his mouth.

 

He pulls fibers from the rope, soft from his hands working it, and braids and twists it. When he slips it around her wrist, she smiles and her eyes see nothing but him. It’s heady and sweet, the moment goes on and on and on.

 

When he kneels at her feet, she says yes before he even says a word. Finnick wraps his arms around her waist, face pressed into her belly. “I can’t be without you,” he says against her shirt. His words are mumbled but the way she slides her fingers through his hair, he thinks maybe she understands anyway.  

 

*

As she stands next to him, eyes bright and a fine tremor running through her hand, he thinks he’s never seen anything so perfect. She says, “I do.”

 

Annie Odair _. Lovely._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even touching Mockingjay part 2 sorry


End file.
